Makenzy's Tale
by KaninLover
Summary: Makenzy is a vampire slayer. She comes to the town of Morganville seeking redemption, but quickly finds killing vampires isn't as easy as she once thought. What happens when she becomes attached to the residents of Morganville?
1. Preface

_Welcome to Morganville!_

 _You'll never want to leave..._

The girl snorted and walked past the slightly crooked sign. She imagined feeling a difference as she passed the border, entering the town as she'd been dreaming of doing since she could pick up a stake. Yet nothing happened; her whole perspective didn't change, no magical forcefield yanked her back to the safety behind her.

Almost too easy.

The streets of Morganville were silent, waiting, watching. Nothing dared to so much as breathe, but she knew what she hunted had no need for oxygen. Makenzy decided to do one of the things she did best: act. It came in handy for all sorts of things, including lying to your parents about having eaten your vegetables to what she was doing now: luring a vampire.

She decided to play Little Lost Tourist.

Frowning, she scanned the allies, looking behind her every so often as expecting someone- or something- to be stalking her. She swung her arms, and willed her heart to race.

It didn't take long. Within minutes, a figure stepped in her path, appearing from the shadows. Whistling, the creature watched her stop in her tracks. The only thing she could make out in the darkness was the slight mania in his gleaming eyes, and his peculiar choice in footwear- were those bunny slippers?

Makenzy tamped down her curiosity and allowed a new emotion to bubble up inside her, allowing her to smile as she gripped her stake, hidden in her back pocket, with a steady hand.

"Are you lost, little girl?" The vampire asked, and, seeing her move, tensed.

"No. I think I'm gonna like it here."


	2. Chapter 2

The fight was over before it had really begun.

"Child, I would not advise you to go waving that thing around here." The vampire in front of me said calmly.

I hefted the stake and took a daring step forward. He didn't move back. "Does it bother you?" He didn't reply, just watched me get closer and closer, still as a statue.

When he still hadn't made a move, I swung my stake out, suddenly anxious to end this. In a blindingly fast motion, his arm curled around my wrist in an iron grip and yanked it to the side, forcing me to drop my stake. I winced as it hit the ground with a metallic clink and rolled away into the grass.

Still gripping my arm to the point of pain, he said, "Are you a tourist? We don't get many of those. I hate tourists."

"What?" Deciding I didn't really care about his psycho-blabber, I shook my head. "You know what? Nevermind." With a grunt, I jerked my knee upward, hoping it would work on the undead, but before it could hit it's target his other hand was under my knee.

"Bad human," he tsked, and threw me to the ground. My head hit the pavement with a sickening crack. I didn't register the pain, though I knew I would later.

 _If I lived that long._

He passed under a streetlight, allowing me to see him in more detail. Chalky skin, messy dark hair, and those intense eyes. A shiver ran down my spine: I was a foot away from a vampire. A _real vampire._ I'd been planning for this day for so long, and now I froze, exactly what I was taught not to do. But then my gaze shifted down to his bunny slippers again, and I smirked: they had little fangs. Cute.

But the humor quickly died when he crouched over me, deeming me unable to move. My stake lay several feet away, the silver glinting in the moonlight. Taunting me. The bloodsucker leaned closer until all I could see were those dark, hungry eyes. I was uncomfortably aware of how close my throat was to his mouth.

As if reading my thoughts, he smiled. "Now what have we got here? A vampire hunter?"

"Go to hell." I hissed up at him. If it really was over, I wasn't going out unspoken.

The vampire seemed amused by this. "Tempting. But I can't take you up on your offer just yet, little one."

My heart was pounding on my chest, to a point where it physically hurt to breathe. I tried to calm down, but it was no use. I knew he could hear it. Was my blood also tempting? "Enough games. If you're going to kill me, just get on with it." A little voice in my head wondered if he would enjoy my death, and try to bring it out, torture me. My heart banged against my rib cage ever harder.

He seemed genuinely surprised. "Oh, but little human, what fun would be in that?" He murmured softly to himself, "Amelie will be quite interested in this."

"Who's Amelie?"

The vampire glanced back at me. "Don't you worry about that yet."

Before I could reply, his hands gripped my skull and bashed it into the pavement. There was a flash of color across my vision, and then everything faded away.

But I got no relief in my unconscious state. My sleep was filled with nightmares. Flashes of memories went by like a sick photo album: living in various motel rooms. My father, forcing us to adapt to being nocturnal. Running, always running. My brother pushing me to the floor, yelling, "You can do better! If you don't, it will get you killed!" My mother, eyes lifeless and turned to the sky. Running again.

I woke with a gasp, sitting up straight in...the chair? The side of my head was aching, and the bright ceiling lights did nothing to help. When I lifted a shaking hand to my scalp, I felt dried blood.

Unsuccessfully I tried to stand. A wave of nausea passed over me and I slumped back to the chair. It looked like I was in an office building; nicely dressed people milled around the white halls, making me self conscious of my dirt smeared clothes. To my right was a thick wooden door, shut so I could just barely hear two people- or vampires- arguing.

"-Myrnin!"

"What? I brought her back alive-" I stiffened, recognizing the voice. It was the vampire from the street.

"-but in what condition, I cannot say."

"I forget humans are so fragile. I am sorry."

This "Myrnin" didn't sound very sorry. In fact, it sounded like he was annoyed with the other vampire. There was a moment of silence before the female said, "Now what shall we do with her?"

And that was my cue to leave.

Gritting my teeth, I attempted to stand again. My vision went black, and I waited impatiently, half risen from the chair. When it cleared, I took a hesitant step-

And ran smack into a stone hard chest.

Cursing, I stumbled back and caught myself on the wall. The bickering inside the office cut off, but I had other problems now.

The man glared down at me, but it was hard to take him seriously with the gray pony tail and tie dye shirt. "Just where do you think you're going?"

I crossed my arms to mimic him. "No where, apparently," I retorted just as the door creaked open behind me.


	3. Chapter 3

And out came him. "Myrnin"- wow, his parents must have hated him. Close behind was his lady friend he'd been discussing my fate with.

"Are you two done bickering like an old married couple?" I asked, trying to sound brave. I think the fact that I was leaning on the wall for support brought that down just a smidge.

Hippie Dude, still glaring daggers at me, said, "Amelie, what is the meaning of this?"

Myrnin piped up, "I found her wandering by the sign."

"I didn't ask you." Before my attacker could retort to that, Hippie Dude looked back at Lady Vamp. I just couldn't think of her with a real name- she was so stiff and formal, with a tight, icy blonde hairstyle to match. "Well?"

Lady Vamp turned her cold stare to me. I stood up straighter. "Well, visitors are always welcome." She finally managed. "Though I might object to ones carrying stakes."

"Speaking of which, where the hell is mine?"

The vampire posse ignored me.

Hippie sighed. "I'm needed back at the shop-"

"As if you actually do anything there." Myrnin said.

"Okay, you two are the new married couple." I interjected, which finally got their attention. Three pairs of undead eyes stared me down, unamused.

"What makes you think you can speak to us like that, girl?" Hippie said.

Before I could think of something smart arse to say, Lady Vamp said, "Oliver, will you please just take her back with you and watch her for a while?"

"I'm not a babysitter. Have your human pet do it." Oliver scoffed before walking away.

Human pet. That didn't sound good.

"I'll watch her." Myrnin volunteered. I couldn't object, because immediately Lady Vamp exhaled.

"Try not to eat this one," she commanded before stepping back into her office. The door shut with a resounding click, leaving me alone in the hall with my attacker.

He grinned. "Won't this be fun?"

"Bite me."

...

"Claire- no, I know that-"

I sighed, walking through the lab. Myrnin had taken me back to his dungeon, which really turned out to be a mad science laboratory, and proceeded to ignore me for the past hour. Then he asked if he could borrow my phone, and took several minutes trying to figure out how to use it.

Exhaling again, I drifted down the aisle, examining all his crap in the dim light. This bloodsucker was such a hoarder.

Behind me, Myrnin kept talking into the phone at this Claire. "For the love of- I cannot stand her any longer!"

Diddo. Ignoring his conversation, my eyes landed on a certain table that had a tank balanced precariously on top of it, the sort of thing you'd put a pet fish in. Upon further inspection, I realized it was no fish he was holding hostage.

It was a spider.

"Claire- hey, don't touch that!"

"Wasn't planning on it." I muttered, peering into the dusty tank. Looks like we have a classic stereotypical vampire here, folks. All we needed were coffins.

The bug stared back at me with beady eyes. Shuddering, I stepped back and continued on.

"No, I was talking to the girl- no, I don't know her name." Myrnin paused and hollered, "Human! What do they call you?"

"Suck it." I yelled back, coming to a strange contraption full of wires on another desk.

Myrnin sighed into the phone. "Yes, she's being difficult again. Could you- yes- thank you, Claire! I owe you a nice visit with Bob."

"Bob?" I asked after he'd hung up and given me back my phone. I'd accepted it with two fingers, careful not to touch him.

"You have already met." Myrnin nodded to the tank.

I nodded back. "Oh, of course. Bob the spider."

"I cannot take this any longer!" He announced. "There is work to be done, and as long as you will not prove yourself useful and assist me, or at the very least tell me your business here, then I'm afraid you'll be going with Claire."

"Is Claire human?"

"Sadly. It's such a waste of talent."

Ignoring the last bit, I smiled. "Then I'll gladly go with her. After you give me my stake back."

Myrnin watched me with suspicious eyes. "You won't be needing that, human."

"Are you afraid?"

Snorting, he walked further into the lab, still wearing those ridiculous slippers of his. He reappeared, pinching the stake gingerly at it's base.

"Do not try killing me again. I have not the time to indulge in your silly games." Handing me my weapon, he added, "And if having it back in your possession gets you slaughtered, do not say I didn't warn you."

There was a knock at the door, startling me. Before Myrnin could answer it, someone flung it open and stalked down the stairs.

"Myrnin, if this is another one of your pranks-" the girl stopped on the last step, seeing me. Blinking, she said, "Oh. Hello."

"You must be Claire." I drawled, spinning the stake between my fingers.

Myrnin yanked on my arm and pushed me up the steps, Claire in tow. "Yes, yes, have a nice sleepover or whatever they call it these days."

The door slammed behind us. We glanced at each other, and she blinked again. I could tell she was scrutinizing me, just as I was her. A bulging backpack was slung over one of her shoulders, and she was short. I towered several inches over her, but she seemed to be around my age, eighteen or older.

She grimaced, seeing my ragged black combat boots and ripped jeans. "I guess you're coming with me. We take in all the misfits."

She trudged ahead down the alley, leaving me wondering if the entire population of Morganville was a buzz kill.


	4. Chapter 4

I was blinded.

The sunlight, though weak and the sky was still gray, came as a shock; it meant time, hours, had passed since I'd come to Morganville, and I hadn't come close to killing a single vampire.

I wonder what my family would think.

My head pulsed with every step we took down the sidewalk. Whereas last night I hadn't seen many people, now several lined the streets, though they all kept a wary check of their surroundings. I wasn't used to being awake during the day, and desperately wanted somewhere to sleep.

It didn't have to be fancy; for the past few weeks, since I'd turned eighteen, I was happy to find anywhere to sleep at all. Cheap motels had become the epitome of my comfort as I trekked across the USA with barely any cash, though mostly I took up residence in trees. They were high and safe, though I could almost hear the jokes Mason would be making: I was a squirrel now.

Claire was silent for half the trip through town. When we neared a more populated area, she finally glanced at me and said, "I've got to get to TPU. So-"

"TPU?" I snorted, ready to make a reference to a common activity amongst mischievous teenagers.

Claire sighed. "So it's true then. You do have a sense of humor." She elaborated drily. We came to a stop outside a coffee shop; letters on the window titled it Common Grounds. It appeared I wasn't the only one with a sense of humor around here. "Look, I'm sorry I've been pretty grouchy, but bad things usually happen when we take in newcomers."

It sounded personal. I didn't reply, knowing I certainly wouldn't cause any good. Was Claire just another vampire kiss-up?

They'd probably brainwashed the whole freaking town.

"I'll send Shane by to pick you up, but he has work too." Glancing inside the shop, she added, "Hopefully everyone's okay with you staying for a while."

I put my hands on my hips. "Just how long do you think I'll be staying, Vamp lover?"

Ignoring the snide, she shrugged. "I don't know. You seen lost."

"Lost? I know exactly where I am."

Claire shook her head sadly. "That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?"

She glanced at her watch, shrugged, and loped back up the sidewalk, shouldering her bag.

I glanced at the shop. Several students sat at tables, typing at their laptops and sipping mochas. I could run: this was the first time I'd been unsupervised all night.

But I didn't have the strength to pick any fights. My best bet would be to pretend I was "tame", get them feeling safe again, before I attacked.

I would probably die then. But I was determined to rid the world of as much evil as I could before I kicked it.

A bell jingled cheerfully as I entered the coffee shop. The scent of fresh coffee wafted back to me; oh, coffee: the only thing that had kept me working nights for all my life.

I was ready to sink into a booth and wait for this mysterious Shane guy when I caught the eye of the man working the counter.

I cursed; what a small world.

Oliver gestured impatiently for me to come to the counter, and I knew it wasn't to order. It's not like I had any money, anyhow, not that I'd pay this bloodsucker anything.

I stifled a laugh; vampires playing server. Who knew?

"No slayers allowed." He grumbled at me.

I gestured to the window behind me. "I didn't see a sign. No loitering, yes. But slayers? You'll have to be more specific."

Oliver growled low in his throat. "Who are you, anyway?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, Ollie?"

I sensed he wanted to lunge across the counter and maybe bite my head off, but there were too many witnesses. Instead, he just shook his head, wiping his hands on his apron, and turned back to the coffee machines behind him.

I padded back to a quiet seat nestled in the corner, triumphant. I felt Ollie's glares on me the whole time.

The bell over the door rang again, and I looked up to see the vampire turn his sneer to the handsome young man walking in the shop. "Wonderful, is the whole lot of you going to show up?" I thought I heard him say.

Before I could think to stand, say, "Are you Shane?" his eyes fell on me. Boy were they a deep color; it was like the coffee Oliver was stirring up front.

I didn't have to introduce myself; I sort of stood out in the quaint little shop. He came over to me, his eyes still wide with shock, and said, "You must be the slayer everyone's talking about."

I smile, tilting my head. Famous already?

"And you must be Shane." I purred. "But I haven't heard all that much about you."

I don't think I was imagining the sudden blush that tinged his cheeks. "Ah-" he coughed into his fist, looking like he was going to say something. Finally he just shook his head. "Let's go."

We walked in silence for a while; oh, was this town big on it. I felt his eyes repeatedly straying over to the stake hanging out of my back pocket.

"See something you like?"

"I have a girlfriend." He suddenly blurted. "Claire. You've met."

Stiffly I nodded. "Pretty girl."

He watched me for a moment before continuing, "But I think we could become good friends." He put special emphasis on the last word. As in, we would only ever be friends. "Can I tell you a secret?"

I was immediately interested.

"I hate the bloodsuckers, too." He murmured, eyes darting across the street, but no one payed us any mind. "They-" he swallowed, "they killed my family."

A weight pressed down on my chest, and I stared down at my mud splattered boots, wondering how I'd gotten to this point. "Same here," I admitted softly.

Before he could reply, we slowed down in front of a large house. It was sort of intimidating, with two stories of widows and a Southern Gothic style porch.

"Welcome," Shane said, "to the Glass house."


	5. Chapter 5

"We'll have to talk to Michael," Shane said, turning his key in the lock, "but he won't back until late. He's working a gig."

"A musician?" I nodded my approval.

Shane winked at me as he swung open the door. "Yeah. So you'll be able to stay the night, but I can't guarantee anything past that."

I didn't reply, staring in awe at the inside. How was it that such an opposing looking house could appear so ordinary inside?

"Welcome to my humble abode," he said grandly, sweeping an arm dramatically in front of him.

I giggled, but quickly stopped. When was the last time I'd laughed? Years, probably.

"Well..." Shane mumbled. "I'm putting in a lot of trust here, you know. Claire's at school until this afternoon, and Eve's at work."

Eve? How many roomates did these people have? "What do you think I'm going to do, Shane? Plunder your treasures and light the house on fire?"

His expression goes dark. "We've had enough houses being set on fire, thanks." After a moment of awkward silence, he continued, "I bet you're hungry from your, ah, journey."

Trying to pry me for info. The sly dog. I wasn't going to tell the boy, no matter how pretty he was, about myself until I knew I could trust him. "There's leftover chili in the fridge, and Coke. I'm afraid that's all we've got right now," said Shane when I said nothing.

I smiled at him. "Thanks, sugar."

Blushing again, he left.

I peeked out the thick curtains. After he'd vanished down the sidewalk, I proceeded to go on a self guided tour of the home, not caring if it was considered rude and my stomach was rumbling louder than a truck engine. I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten.

A quick inspection of the quaint, sunny kitchen revealed there was indeed a covered pan with last night's dinner as well as a pack of soda. Popping the tab on a can, I sipped it slowly as I walked through the house. The sweetness of the Coke ran shivers down my body; I hadn't had sugar in a long time, having depended on scraps and fast food since I'd turned eighteen several weeks ago.

Ah, what a memorable birthday. I'd sung myself "Happy Birthday" while my twin packed my clothes and kicked me out of the motel we'd last stayed in. He didn't seem to be in a festive mood, either; he was going on his own mission.

I passed the living room without a glance, heading to the stairs. They creaked under my weight, as if to say I shouldn't be walking up them. When I'd cleared the flight, I paced down a narrow hall. Doors lined my left and right; bedrooms, I guessed.

Near the end of the hall, a picture frame next to one of the doors was crooked. OCD taking over, I reached out to straighten it; as I did, my finger passed over something raised, and, frowning, I slid the frame back into a haphazard position.

Beneath the picture was a button.

Frowning, I pushed it, even though every movie where someone pushed the big red button they weren't supposed to ended up dying went through my head. With a click, a section of the wall split from the rest of the wood, revealing a staircase.

"Epic," I breathed. It was perfect: a big, old and creepy house, complete with a secret room.

I reached to put my foot on the first step, anxious to see what the vamp lovers were hiding, when a voice startled me from behind.

A girl was standing there, and the combination of her pale skin and piercing blue eyes did not reassure me in the least. "You're not supposed to go in there."

"And just who the hell are you?"

She blinked. "Who are you?"

I crossed my arms and backed up to the first step. "I asked you first, honey. I thought no one was home." And how had she snuck up on me like that? The steps hadn't creaked and all the bedroom doors were still shut.

"My name is Miranda. You aren't supposed to be in there." She repeated.

"Yeah, so you've said. Gonna stop me?" I turned my back on her and took a few more steps up. When I didn't get a response like I was anticipating, I glanced back over my shoulder.

She was gone.

"What the f-" I turned back to the secret room and jumped, nearly falling down the short staircase. Miranda had rematerialized two steps above me, glaring down. I clutched a hand to my racing heart. "How did you do that?"

"I'm a ghost." She replied simply.

"Yeah, and I'm Oprah." Why was I being so obstinate? I believed in vampires; why couldn't ghosts exist? My proof stood right above me.

Maybe it was because of it was possible for people to stick around after they died, to wander lost forever, then I might think my parents could be ghosts too.

Hope, and fear, were dangerous devices.

"Look, I enjoy my appointed babysitter's resident ghost as much as the next gal, but I'm just curious as to what's up there. It's that okay with you?"

Miranda said, "It's just a room. Believe me, if there were something interesting up there, I wouldn't be down here talking to you." She frowned, her ruby red lips puckering into an O. "Not that you're not interesting."

I leaned against the wall. "So you're stuck here?" I asked warily.

She shrugged.

Well, this was just dandy. I sighed, taking one more glance upward. I could just see the tops of an antique looking lamp and sofa. Maybe it was just someone's second living room.

I lifted my shoulders carelessly to mirror her. "Whateva you say, Miranda."

I walk back down the steps and into the kitchen; chili was calling my name. As I watched the food make a revolution in the microwave, I felt a chill enter the air and looked back.

Even knowing what I'd see, to my anger I flinched again. Miranda watched me with a blank, (pardon my pun) dead stare.

"Creep much?" I snapped, taking the bowl out and plopping down at the dining table.

"Who are you? Does Michael know you're here?"

"What are you, his girlfriend?" I took a bite of steaming chili, ignoring how it burned my toungue. It was quite literally the best thing I'd ever tasted, though to my amusement it had a hint of garlic. I started shoveling it in, my stomach complaining as it hit the food hit emptily.

She hesitated before saying, "No. His wife's name is Eve."

"Wife?"

"He's older than he looks."

I stiffened, nearly choking on the chili. "Is he...?" I mimed fangs in my throat with two fingers.

It looked like she was suppressing a grin. "He used to be." With that, she disappeared.

It took me a minute to remember how to pick up my spoon, and when I did, I clenched it so hard my knuckles turned white. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Used to?

I stopped eating, staring at the chili. What if he'd made it? A vampire?

Resisting the urge to gag, I dumped the rest of the bowl in the trash and leaned over it, clutching my belly. Images lept before my vision: my dead parents, the gleam of Myrnin's eyes.

"Hey, are you alright?"

I spun around, seeing Claire standing tensely at the threshold. She dropped her bag and raised an eyebrow.

I felt my cheeks heat up and shrugged. I hadn't heard the door. "Define alright."

She watched me for a moment. "What are you doing here, uh...?"

I don't know why, but I informed her, "Makenzy." I told myself it was because I was tired of people calling me the slayer, not that I was forming attachments. "To kill vampires."

"So you've made clear." Claire murmured. "But why?"

I swallowed. "You don't really need a good reason when it's all you've known. Sometimes you lose sight of... Life."

She didn't ask what I meant. Just stared at the forgotten bowl behind me before turning away.

I exhaled and sank to the floor.

I've lost sight of things all right.


	6. Chapter 6

"CB, what's this I hear about a vampire slayer?" The girl stepping inside the house stopped, eyes falling on me. "Oh, hello."

"Hello."

She didn't seem to know what to do for a moment, so she stood frozen in the doorway, front door still open. A cool breeze tossled her black hair, and she finally had the presence of mind to shut it.

When she turned back, her heavily mascara-lined eyes went to the stake hanging at my belt. She raised an eyebrow, somehow managing to narrow her eyes at the same time. "Claire?" She shouted at the staircase.

Upstairs, a door opened, and Claire came down the stairs with a pencil threaded through her hair and a notebook in hand. I resisted the urge to snort. "I see you've met Makenzy."

The girl blinked, and turned to me. She was goth if I'd ever seen one, with pale skin and black leggings. Little skulls decorated the fabric, and a choker was around her throat. It was almost as if she were making fun of vampires.

Maybe I could get to like her.

She thrust out her hand to me, and I hesitantly shook it. Forcing a smile on to her made-up face, she said, "Eve Ros- Glass."

"Are you sure?" I asked, dropping her hand.

Under the makeup she blushed. "Sometimes I forget not to use my maiden name."

"Hold up." I lifted a hand as if to ward Eve off. "You're married?" The girl was young, and even under all that makeup I could tell she was maybe my age- too young to be married, surely.

Eve shrugged, her eyes piercing again. "Got a problem with that?"

Oh, great. Another person fluent in sarcasm. That's why thing. Before I could retort, Claire rolled her eyes and said, "Myrnin told me go watch her."

"Since when do you listen to him?" Eve turned her attention to her.

"Since he threatened to put my brain in a machine," she tossed over her shoulder, padding back up the steps.

"What?"

Eve blinked and looked back at me. She lifted one shoulder and grunted. "Oh, you know, her psychotic boss. He has a reputation for eating his assistants."

I nodded. Didn't surprise me. "I've met him."

We both shuddered. Eve grinned at me. "So watcha doin' in Morganville? You've got to be insane yourself to come here."

I sat back down on the couch and looked at my hands. "I guess you've heard the rumors."

"Yeah, you've caused quite a stir." She remarked, heading into the kitchen and coming back with a Coke.

"You know your house is haunted?" I blurted.

She frowned, and then realization dawned on her face and she laughed. It was a short and sharp kind of laugh. "Oh, that's just Mir. She wouldn't harm a fly."

"Hm."

Eve didn't seem to know what to do with herself. After a long moment, standing beside the sofa and clutching the Coke like a lifeline, she drifted upstairs without a word.

I don't know how long I stayed on the couch before Michael came home. My eyes slipped closed involuntarily; I still hadn't slept. I was briefly awakened when Shane came in, but didn't stay conscious long enough to greet him. When the front door opened again, softly, the world outside the windows had gone dark and silent again. Someone had lain a quilt over me; this disturbed me, as I'd been trained to be a light sleeper. What good would I be if I got killed in my sleep?

Miraculously I didn't dream. I sat up on the couch, feeling the most clear headed I had in a long time, and stared back at who had to be the infamous Michael Glass.

At first I couldn't speak. Tongue-tied, I just gave him a once-over, and then a second one. Would that make it a twice over? Michael's blond hair fell in his eyes, and as he sat his guitar case down, he brushed it back. That arm was muscled, I could tell even under his sweatshirt, and I couldn't help but think this: if Shane's pretty, than this guy was drop dead gorgeous.

The cool house got just a bit hotter.

When he raised an eyebrow, I realized with a flush he'd asked me a question. "What?"

"Are you Makenzy?" When he stiffened, he explained, "Claire called."

I resisted the urge to say something along the lines of how many strange girls do you find passed out on your couch? I just couldn't say it to that face...

"Yeah." I replied. Clearing my throat, I added, "That's me."

I glanced at my watch; it was solar powered so I didn't have to worry about things like batteries when I'm on the run. It was about an hour after midnight.

As if getting my cue, he lowered his voice. "So Amelie wants you to stay here?"

I shrugged. "Vamp La- I mean, Amelie. Amelie handed me over to Myrnin, who handed me over to you guys."

He frowned, shrugging out of his jacket. "Aren't you old enough to not need a babysitter?"

I fumed, suddenly not seeing just his hotness. He was also cold and calculating. "Yes."

"Then she must see some danger in you." Michael murmured, his voice silky and dangerous. "Word around here is you're a slayer."

"Word around here is you were a vampire."

For just a second, his eyes narrowed, and his chiseled face seemed to darken. And then it passed. He stepped out of his boots and started up the stairs. "We'll talk more in the morning. Goodnight."

Obviously, I didn't get any more sleep. I just stared at the opposite wall, thinking about Mr. Glass.


	7. Chapter 7

I stared thoughtfully at my Cheerios.

"Uh..." Across the table, Eve watched me with worried eyes. "Have you not had cereal before, hon?"

Slowly I shook my head, swirling the spoon around in the milk. "Yeah, but not for a long time."

Eve made a little noise in the back of her throat as I continued to spin the little O's around in the bowl. I think I may have been slightly delirious from lack of sleep; it's happened before. After a moment, the girl shrugged, throwing back the rest of her orange juice, and scooted back from the table. The little squeal the legs of her chair made on the tile startled me, and my hand jerked. across the table.

All I could think about now were screams. Mine mingled with my mother's as my brother took me away.

"Well..." Eve stared down at me for a few more seconds before adjusting the black leather top she was wearing today. "You better eat it before it gets soggy." Then she turned away and left the room, off to work.

But suddenly I wasn't so hungry. Absently, I grabbed a cloth and swiped at the milk until the puddle had dried. Now that the memory had started, it wouldn't be stopped. I saw it happen again as if in real time, the vampire coming forward with a grin on it's pale face as it watched my mother twist on the floor. She kept yelling for us to help her; blood was running down her throat to smear on the floor.

I wanted to help her, but my brother grabbed me and started tugging me to the door. No matter how much I cursed him, threatened to never even look at him again, he kept pulling until we were outside in the safety of sunlight.

"Mom!" I'd yelled, but she was gone.

"Hey, are you okay? Makenzy?"

I gasped, coming out of the memory to find my cheek pressed to the cold floor. The bowl was lying in shards around me. I scrambled to my feet and almost turned the entire table over, trying to stand.

Michael was standing over me, a towel in his hands. His hair was glistening wet. "I- I heard a scream. Are you okay?" He asked again. All judgement from before had left his features.

But pity had filled it's place. Pity for the scared child shivering infront of him. "Fine," I snapped, beginning to sweep up the shards. "Sorry," I added, not knowing why I felt the need to apologize. For the bowl? He could get a new one. For letting him see me at my weakest? Maybe.

"S'fine." He watched me cleaning up, not offering to help. "You know, it's a lucky thing you didn't cut yourself." He murmured, glancing at the pile of glass I was making in the trash can. When I stayed silent, he continued, "What happened to your mom, kid?"

I bristled. I was only a few years younger than him, but everyone always said I looked young for my age, at least, when I was reliving a memory like that. Fear makes anyone look younger. I also hadn't realized I'd called to my mother out loud; I swept harder at the shards until sweat dripped into my eyes.

Michael sighed, beginning to towel dry his hair. "Suit yourself. But if you ever want to talk about this little vendetta of yours, Eve loves to talk." He headed back up the stairs, pausing half way up. His blue eyes gleaming even through my own tears, he said, "And by the way, I guess you can stay."


End file.
